Cloud
by Elementrial
Summary: When a young and depressed vole, Deltar, and his mute friend Parri meet up with a strange new friend, they have no idea what will happen to Redwall
1. Silent Broodings

The tranquil night sky, illuminated by a golden moon, hovered over the vast fields of snow, untrodden upon by stray footpaws. Trees seemed to reach out, grasping at the raw night air as the ice formed thick and strong on the Abbey pond. All were silent in their slumber inside the Abbey. Perhaps it was the cold, the fact that it had come so fast, and abbey goers bustled about trying to ready themselves for winter. Perhaps it had made them weary, running up and down the Abbey stairs. Now the stairs were empty. All was quiet. Even Friar Bondo, whose breathy snores could be usually heard throughout the abbey, had gone strangely silent. 

By God, he wasn't going to destroy that. That was for sure. 

Turning away from the abbey walls, the lonely figure turned and trod away, off through the snow, out into the woods, until he vanished from sight. 

Parri saw. No one else did. Just me and Parri. But Parri wasn't talking. And I wasn't either.

***

"Quiet down, all you young 'uns" said Bryar. "Quiet down now, or I'll roast yer tails and have em for supper," 

The large crowd of dibbuns quieted down. The large hare, shocked at their obedience, fought for words. 

"Erm, I guess ..." said Bryar, scratching his tall ears. "I guess we can go outside and play." 

The large crowd cheered. Dibbuns love nothing more than fresh snow. No cares, no worries. That is the way of the dibbun, all play and no responsibility. I could see why Pari hated them. He had told me so, before the accident. How he would sit and watch the dibbuns play on the steps, and hoped that they would fall. 'Chip a tooth. Give them worries.' he had said 'Give them something to think about other than stuffing their faces and playing.' I never knew if his feelings had changed since than. Mine hadn't not one bit. 

"Ah, there you are. Come here Deltar, I have a chore for you." 

Play stupid. "Me, Sir?" I said innocently to Bryar. "Are you calling me or Pari?"

"Both of you can do this" he said, pointing toward the dibbuns. "Make sure that they stay out of trouble. Keep them off the pond."

"Yes sir." I said, faking a smile. That idiot hare always had me and Pari doing little errands for him. Fetch him this, fetch him that, like his own little slaves. 

"Chip a tooth." I whispered to Pari. He nodded. Poor Pari. He wasn't the same since the accident. 

We plodded through the snow, knee high on us, but over waist deep to the dibbuns.They frolicked and played, all smiles of baby teeth and gums. No brains, not one grain of one out of the lot of them. 

_You two. Over here. I have something for you._

I grasped my own hand and ignored it. Whatever it was, it wasn't talking to me. I had my back to the fence, anyway. An outsider couldn't get in. If there was one thing good about this damned abbey, it was security. 

_You. Mouse in the green robe._

Something tapped me on my back.

_Don't be afraid. I have a question._

I could have run. But I didn't. We were outsiders, like him. Outcasts of the abbey. I turned around. _Good. I have a preposition._


	2. The Hunter

The rain splashed off the face of Terrax the Warlord. It didn't matter to him. He liked the rain, and everything about it. It provided a challenge in the marching, it gave him an adversary that he couldn't just slay and be done with. He smiled went back into the leader's tent. 

"Sir," exclaimed a small, red furred rat. "Has the rain let up yet?" 

Terrax looked down at him. "No, it's still pouring as hard as yesterday." 

"That's gonna make marching a hell of a lot of fun." said the art slyly, hoping that the warlord would pick up his hint the way it was intended. If he didn't pick it up, then what he said was a waste of breath. If the warlord took it the wrong way, he would kill him. 

Terrax looked the little rat in the eye, saying, "Are you implying that we slow our march, Aftaraff?" 

The fox was on to him. "Why, no Sir." said Aftaraff, swallowing a lump in his throat that had formed mysteriously. 

"Good." said Terrax. "You know how I hate those slow marches." He turned away. Aftaraff swallowed again. The large fox turned away. He was a normal red fox, but he was tall, strong, and vicious. Across his right forearm was a black blade, of solid metal, strapped there by a snakeskin band. across his back he wore a bandolier, behind which was a sword and a heavy iron hammer. The warlord turned suddenly.

"Did I ever tell you how I came by this blade?" said the warlord, admiring the black metal weapon strapped to his arm. 

"No, sir." said the rat. 

"Some say that it was a shooting star, which fell into the earth. Others say that it was Lucifer being cast down from heaven. Either way, there was a bubbling black pond of this metal." He said. Lifting his arm, he picked up a sword that had been left in the corner. He sliced the blade in two with a quick, downward motion. "This metal is virtually unbreakable." he said, again admiring it's fine black shine. "perfect in battle." 

"And when shall we go into battle, sir." 

"Not yet," He looked at the little rat and grinned, showing rows of white teeth, savagely sharpened to a sword's razor edge. "Leave now. Report to me the number of supplies."

"Yes, sir." 

Alone in his tent, the warlord wielded his hammer, doing fencing moves with it as easily as any expert could do with a sword. He whirled and spun, ducked and slammed the mallet into the ground. He stopped for a breath, taking it back and restoring it to his sheathe. "Soon I'll get you, my brother." he said. He turned and went into his tent for the night's rest.


End file.
